Traveled to Asia and lived there a while, saw 'special economic zones' in practice and just that brief look into the horrifying lives of slaves sent me into the blackest of depressions. All those years of taking shit for granted only to find it was all off the backs of people deliberately kept out of sight kept churning in my head.
Returning to U.S. life made it all the worse. Each day the senseless misery of those people juxtaposed with the senseless consumption that embodies life here ate away at me, I felt something had to be done. Rage swept me as I knew I was too small a player to do anything to change this terrible machine. What could one man do?' I often asked myself. But still I knew SOMETHINGhad to be done. I had to act.
When I finally got my boob job done my god it was glorious, I was finally on the outside who I always was on the inside. Since then I've felt super.